Truth and Lies

Chapter One

George stretched leisurely in his king-size bed before prying open his eyes. He was met with soft light filtering through the blinds covering his windows. Raking a hand through his short brown hair, he sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

The room was neat and clean, decorated specifically for a man in navy and light gray. The plush carpet under his feet was dark blue and soft to the touch. Wriggling his toes, he was glad he had paid extra for the little luxury. Standing, he rolled his head to loosen his neck muscles, then went into the bathroom.

After a quick shower, he was out and dressed. Without another look at his unmade bed, he left the room. Striding down the hall, he entered what he lovingly called the cotton candy room. It was painted the exact shade of pink cotton candy that you might find at a local carnival. And there she was, huddled on her side underneath a pepto-bismal colored blanket.

With a gentle hand, George caressed her fine blond hair. "Jess." She mumbled but did not stir. He wanted to let her sleep but they had a busy day ahead of them. "Jessica, time to get up."

Scrunching up her nose, her eyes opened slightly. "Daddy?"

"Time to get up, sweets." his voice was husky with love. "Go brush your teeth and wash your face."

"Can we have pancakes?" she asked sleepily.

"Not today, baby. I'll make you some cereal and juice. Can you get dressed without me?"

She sniffed and rolled off her bed. "I can do it... I'm not a baby."

"All right. Come down to the kitchen when you're done." he called after her as she disappeared into her bathroom. Shaking his head, he headed downstairs to make his coffee and his breakfast. Had it only been four years since her birth? He wasn't sure he could remember his life before then.

In the kitchen he pulled out a bowl, spoon and milk. After setting those items on the table, he went to the cabinet to see what kind of cereal they had left. He desperately needed to go grocery shopping. Groaning, he saw that they only had raisin bran. He crossed his fingers hoping his daughter wouldn't make a fuss. Instead of leaving the box on the table for her to see, he just poured it in her bowl and tucked it back away in the cabinet. As he was pouring two glasses of juice, his little princess scurried into the room. He grunted softly but did not point out that her purple shirt and orange pants did not match. They were her favorite items of clothing and it was her big day.

"Daddy, you poured my cereal!" she frowned at him. "I wanted to pour it."

"I'm sorry, sweets. I'll let you pour it tomorrow, okay?"

She pushed out her lower lip but slid onto her chair without any further comment. It took her less than ten minutes to scarf down her food. "I'm done."

"Finish your juice." he ordered, taking a final sip of his coffee before placing the half-full cup in the sink.

She gulped down the remaining juice then stood. "Do I get to use my new backpack today?"

"You bet. It's in the front hall." It was her first day of preschool and she was excited... he was terrified. Up until this point, Jessica had spent her days at home with him or with their part-time nanny, Jennifer. But it was time for Jessica to start socializing with other children. She was ready for the new adventure... he was not.

"Dad-dy!"

He grinned and collected his jacket and briefcase. In the foyer Jessica was hopping from one foot to another, pink backpack perched on her small shoulders. "Okay, lets go." Following her out to the minivan, he groaned out loud. They forgot to do her hair. It was blond, long and straight, which made it easy to deal with. However, if he didn't put it up now, it would end up tangled and riddled with dirt or paint or something. "Jess, we have to put up your hair." he called.

She skipped on, reaching the minivan quickly. "Nah."

"Oh yes we do." he muttered, sliding open the back door. As she clambered into the booster seat, he scrounged in the glove compartment for her extra brush and rubber bands. "Turn your head, sweets."

She obliged as she swung her legs back and forth. "Ouch!" There was hurt in her voice as he pulled the brush through her hair quickly and caught a tangle.

"Sorry." he grunted. When he finished, he tossed the brush back into the glove box and closed her door. Once he was in the car, he turned to look at her. "Jennifer will pick you up this afternoon, okay?"

Nodding, she played with the strap of her backpack. "I'm going to have fun today."

"You sure are." he said confidently.

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Valerie Adamson cringed as she eyed her bank statement. That was it, she was going to have to sell the house... and the car. Where the hell was she going to live? Selling the house would barely pay off the two mortgages her ex-husband had taken out. Selling her ten year old car would barely give her a small cushion to live on. Darn him.

She uncrossed her legs and got to her feet. The family room she was sitting in was large, longer than it was wide, with a beautiful brick fireplace at the far end. She'd loved this room, though her ex had claimed it was too informal for entertaining. One long wall of the room faced out over the back yard and had multiple windows to let in the afternoon light. She had always envisioned having a nice family evening in this room... a little boy laying on the floor watching tv, a little girl playing with her dolls on the couch. Instead she and her ex had spent most of their time entertaining in the more formal living room at the front of the house. It was more square with windows on two walls and french doors to a dark-paneled den on the third wall.

With a grunt of disgust, she carried her papers into the kitchen where boxes of her files were lined up on the floor. All the furniture in the house was already gone... repossessed... so at least moving would be a snap. She dropped the latest bank statement into a box and continued on to her refrigerator. The kitchen was spotless, as always, and styled after an old-fashioned country-kitchen. There was a bay window that overlooked the manicured back yard and an island in the center of the kitchen itself. This, too, had been a favorite room, with it's cozy breakfast nook and oak-paneled cabinets. The appliances were not new, but were clean and in excellent condition. She'd spent many a time here preparing meals and cocktails for their dinner parties, preferring her own cooking over any catering company's food. And her ex had approved, stating that his clients would find it 'quaint' that his wife liked to cook for their guests.

Staring into the fridge, she chewed on her lip. The shelves were practically empty, which was a far cry from previous months. She would always make sure the pantry and refrigerator were full of home-cooked goodies in case any clients or friends dropped by. But now, now it was different. There were no more clients, no more entertaining friends on a Friday night. There was just her... and her non-existent budget. Slamming the door shut, she turned to the pantry. Yech... peanut butter and jelly again.

After making herself a sandwich, she grabbed the newspaper to search for a job... an apartment... a new life.

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George groaned and dropped into his kitchen chair.

"I am so sorry." Jennifer said, rinsing a dish in the sink. "Roger's company isn't moving us until next month so at least I'll be here a little while longer."

"Jessica is going to be heartbroken. You've been with us for so long!" he told her.

"And I love her to death." Jennifer whispered. "But this is Roger's big opportunity."

He patted her shoulder as he passed her to leave the room. "I don't know what we're doing to do without you."

"I'll ask around and see if anyone is interested in the job." she offered.

"We appreciate that." he responded before leaving the room. Jennifer was leaving! What was he going to do? All those horrible interviews and frightening thoughts of the applicant's backgrounds. Jennifer had been a true find... a diamond in a mountain of coal.